


bienséance

by orphan_account



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: A sorta brief mentioning of hunter’s dream I guess, Death, Spoilers, i just wanted to write something today, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 21:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18374006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It meant everything, but simultaneously meant nothing when you’re just about dead.





	bienséance

**Author's Note:**

> An alternative universe where the Good Hunter dies after defeating Gherman. And before the moon presence has its predetermined ending with you

A reorganized womb, sloshing around with sickly hot, sweltering blood. In his organs, in his chest, it flooded; its own womb filling with blood, whilst he waited in pain for a menopause.

So he tried to breathe at least, before the cold hands of death embraced his body again. Cold and dry, prying at his soul that was reluctant to go. It wasn’t time, not yet. God please not yet. Don’t let this happen to me. I haven’t had much time to do anything but be a slave yet.

He writhed, vomiting on himself. Tasting the overdose of half eaten food stain his pink gums with their foul aftertaste. If it was truly over, then there’s not much else to think about.

The son of blue, holding his dying hand, watching it go to cold to freezing. Pale, rain colored, waterproof skin starting the process of death. Soaking up the last bit of motion it had. An ever so dear hunter, nearing his death like it was the last orgasm he’s ever going to have. Readied up for his life to slip away in this field of flowers, blood coating his clothing, eager free fingers grasping his weapons in an desperate effort to just stay for a few more minutes. Please, I’m begging you. 

The edges of his sight had gone dim, demanding he only look at the once red streaked sky. It had begun to go black now, red moon lingering and loitering from behind blacked out clouds. 

Breathe in, exhale.

There and then, it’s over, just as fast it began. Historically, his end at least will mean something. He will be printed in pages years from now; forever going down in history as the hunter who defeated the hunter who started it all. A legacy probably never felt so good.


End file.
